


teenagers scare the living shit out of me

by gayprophets



Series: hellion teen hollis, the unholy terror [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Non-Binary Character, Canon Trans Character, Humor, Pre-Canon, Trans Duck Newton, Trans Male Character, Transgender themes, also not a very well dressed one. trans lyfe. it'll get better hollis being 15 just sucks., do i listen to mcr? no. does hollis? fuckin absolutely., hollis was a fucking terrifying hellion as a teenager ok, one (1) mention of weed, rated for language, the rocky beginnings of trans solidarity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 14:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20853617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayprophets/pseuds/gayprophets
Summary: Duck has a sudden flash of clarity where he remembers that just because he never stopped picturing himself with a giant neon sign above his head blaring ALERT: TRANSGENDER INCOMING!!!!!!!!!!!! to god and everyone doesn’t mean that the rest of the world sees that sign anymore. He, at some point in his transition, started passing, and so now people don’t know unless he tells them.“I’m trans,” Duck says immediately, as Hollis visibly winds up to shout more.He gets to watch Hollis’ expression go through three distinct shifts in as many seconds: confusion, realization, embarrassment, and suddenly, sharply, back to near apoplectic with rage.-Hollis performs pseudotherapeutic pyrotechnics in the woods on Duck's beat. Chaos ensues, as it tends to do around Hollis.This work has a Hollis POV version now!you’re never gonna fit in much, kid





	teenagers scare the living shit out of me

Duck likes his job - honestly! He thinks it’s fun, and it’s peaceful out in the woods. He enjoys the quiet: sometimes his cat makes it so he doesn’t get enough of it at home. He loves her but he thinks she talks more than any human he’s ever met. Plus, his job is important. If he doesn’t look after the Monongahela somebody else will have to, and if you want a job done right you have to do it yourself. Duck _ enjoys _ a job done right. But sometimes a guy just wants to get back to his apartment and chill the fuck _ out. _

His t-shot, which normally goes swimmingly, seeing as he’s been doing it for two decades now, had just been switched to intramuscular rather than sub-q due to some mix up or another, and it’s making his thigh hurt like a bitch. He has a carton of Ben & Jerry’s Milk & Cookies ice cream waiting for him in his freezer, a new bag of weed, and a brand new book waiting for him at home. But he has about 15 minutes before he can call it a day and wander on out of the forest without Juno getting on his ass.

Unfortunately, that’s when he smells smoke. Duck rubs his hands down his face and takes a deep breath, swiveling on his heels until he finds the direction it’s coming from and setting off towards it. Nobody’s been issued any permits to camp in this part of the Monongahela and - he listens for a second, and yeah, that’s definitely firecrackers he’s hearing, more of a _ pop _ than the distinctive _ crack _ of a gun. Looks like he gets to shout down some teenagers today, lucky him.

It doesn’t take him long to find the source of the racket and the smoke - he walks up behind a lone teenager (unusual), studiously using a cheap plastic lighter to set fire to what looks like it is/soon to be _ was _ a journal (even more unusual), wearing thick headphones plugged into an MP3 player, music cranked so loud the bass is giving Duck a headache from back where he’s standing (not unusual at all). They have a massive black hoodie on - it’s May, and warm - black jeans, a green backpack, a huge metal water bottle sitting uncapped next to them, which is marginally fire safety conscious, and a bunch more firecrackers, which are not.

Duck clears his throat. 

Unsurprisingly, the teenager doesn’t so much as twitch, so Duck sighs and goes around the side of them, waiting until they’ve dropped the flaming journal on the ground and put it out before wandering into their peripheral vision. It takes them another second to notice him, but when they do they jump a mile and drop the water bottle on the ground with a muffled _ clang. _

_ “Jesus!” _ they yelp, slapping their headphones off and quickly unplugging them as they scramble to their feet. Duck does his best to keep his face neutral and _ not _ look like sneaking up on people is the highlight of his day. “What the _ fuck, _ dude! Don’t just _ sneak up on people _ like that!”

Now that he’s facing them, he’s recognizing a couple of key features - their greasy hair, cut in the universal ‘this is as long/short as mom will let me have it’, the lack of goth makeup to account for the all black ensemble, and the immediate hunch as they cross their arms across their chest are all horribly familiar. He might as well be looking at himself as an angry at the world, fucked up 15 year old. 

Also, they look like they’ve been crying quite hard very recently, their nose red and eyes swollen.

So, rather than doing his usual good shout about _ fire safety _ and _ irreplaceable wilderness _ and _ endangered wildlife _ and _ Smokey the Bear is your _ ** _friend_ ** etc. etc. etc. before hauling them off to cool their heels in the station until their parents come to collect them, Duck just sighs, putting a hand on his hip.

“Right,” he says. “So. I’m Ranger Duck Newton - it’s a nickname - and you’re lighin’ stuff on fire in my forest. Mind tellin’ me your name, kid?” 

The teen watches him warily for a moment, not bothering to try and kick any of the evidence into their bag with their gigantic Doc Martens - Duck’s not the sharpest crayon in the box, but even he can tell that those for _ sure _ aren’t their size. He did the whole weird random overcompensation thing too, when he was their age. Honestly, Duck’s not sure where to start with this - he’s never been the best at emotional discussions, certainly not with a pissed off stranger. But, he feels like he has some sort of duty to this kid. Lord knows he would have wrangled his life back on the track _ years _ earlier if he had just had somebody to _ talk _ to.

“...Hollis,” they finally say, after some obvious mental deliberation.

“Hollis, alright. Well, clearly you’ve got some… _ stuff _ goin’ on,” Duck continues.

“I’m _ coping,” _ Hollis grumbles, making some fierce eye contact with the pine needles on the ground.

“I get it,” Duck replies, “Life’s real difficult right now, huh? But you can’t go burnin’ down th-,”

“You do _ not _ get it,” they snap, cutting him off, their fists obviously clenching in the sleeves of their overlarge hoodie. 

Duck raises an eyebrow, watching as their face goes red with anger - his teenage self would have almost certainly been sobbing by now, but they seem to be all cried out. It’s the kind of simmering rage that he definitely used to feel a lot of - he probably would have been worse off if he hadn’t ended up with a sword to swing around and take the edge off of his constant adrenaline. He would pass said sword off to Hollis, but he pawned it a while back and honestly, _ nobody _ deserves to be subjected to Beacon. “Believe me kid, I _ do _ understand, which is why I need’ya to know there’s better ways -,”

“IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FUCKING _ FORM _ DO YOU UNDERSTAND!” Hollis shouts, interrupting him once more, slamming the heel of their boot into the ground and gesturing sharply at him. “YOU HAVE NO FUCKIN’ IDEA WHAT MY LIFE IS LIKE MY MAN, SO LIKE, HOP THE _ FUCK _ OFF MY DICK, OKAY?! YOU WILL NEVER ‘GET IT’, SO DON’T EVEN FUCKIN’ _ TRY _ TO BULLSHIT ME LIKE YOU COULD _ EVER _ UNDERSTAND THE SHIT I’M GOING THROUGH! YOU _ WON’T _ UNDERSTAND AND YOU DON’T FUCKING _ WANT _ TO, YOU _ ASSHOLE!” _

Duck has a sudden flash of clarity where he remembers that just because he never stopped picturing himself with a giant neon sign above his head blaring **ALERT: TRANSGENDER INCOMING!!!!!!!!!!!!** to god and everyone doesn’t mean that the rest of the world sees that sign anymore. He, at some point in his transition, started _ passing, _ and so now people don’t _ know _ unless he _ tells them. _

“I’m _ trans,” _ Duck says immediately, as Hollis visibly winds up to shout more.

He gets to watch Hollis’ expression go through three distinct shifts in as many seconds: confusion, realization (the clocking once-over stare is _ much _ less uncomfortable when coming from another trans person), embarrassment, and suddenly, sharply, back to near _ apoplectic _ with rage. 

“So why the _ fuck _ are you so boring then?” they hiss, taking a sharp step forward. Duck, who has two inches and many more pounds on them, surprises himself as he steps back.

“Wh -?!” Duck starts.

“You have the _ choice,” _ Hollis stresses, voice rising, “The _ once in a lifetime _ opportunity to be fucking _ cool, _ and you’re _ choosing _ to dress like _ THAT?!” _

Duck glances down at his uniform, flabbergasted, completely wrong-footed by _ everything _ that’s happened so far in this conversation.

“You choose to act like_ THIS?!” _ Hollis continues, gesturing wildly at him, tone a mix of incredulous and outraged. “You could be anything in the fucking _ WORLD, _ dude, and you chose look like a _ guy in a toilet paper commercial?!” _ They sound almost _ insulted, _ like his life choices are a personal offense to everything in the world, and _ morally wrong _ besides. “You could have been _ COOL!” _

“I -,” Duck tries again, only for Hollis to continue overtop of him once more.

“Why are you so _ FUCKING _ BORING?!” they shout, clapping their hands together and then pointing at him. “Riddle me this, my good bitch: why are you _ BORING _ and a _ NARC?!” _

Duck blinks at them silently for a long minute, their chest heaving with the force of their yelling as they glare at him. He changes his mind, he decides. Hollis _ absolutely _ should own Beacon. They could _ definitely _ handle him.

“I… okay,” Duck says finally. “Okay. Gimmie the lighter. And the firecrackers.”

Hollis glares harder, but very begrudgingly hands them over.

“D’ya need a ride back to town?” Duck asks.

“No,” Hollis replies, kicking a rock, their lips pursed, back to staring at the ground like it said something rude about their mother. 

“I’m gonna give you my card,” Duck decides. “Call me if you need anything.” Hollis takes it and disappears it into the deep recesses of their sweatshirt, likely never to be seen again. 

“See you around,” Hollis says after another burst of silence, then quickly walks off in the direction of the road. Duck stands there for a moment, pretending not to hear them break into a run the second they get out of sight.

When he gets back to his apartment he checks his laptop before he settles in for the night, just to make sure he doesn’t need to do anything. He finds an email from an address he’s never seen before, and lets his eyes skim past the name the second he realizes who it is.

> **Subject:** [This field has been intentionally left blank.]
> 
> sorry i yelled at you dude
> 
> \- hollis

**Author's Note:**

> THANKS FOR READING please feel free to leave kudos and/or comments if you enjoyed! im ignoring a project thats worth like 25% of my grade to post this. you can find me on tumblr @ themlet. if you're currently in hollis' shoes rn as a baby trans: i love you. it gets better. also please take a shower it can't get better until you shower regularly. and buy shoes that fit you're gonna break your ankles.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [standing on my own](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20917736) by [spaceMaverick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceMaverick/pseuds/spaceMaverick)


End file.
